


have a good day at work

by Gone_by_dawn



Series: 100 ways to say... criminal minds [6]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-22 03:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17655215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gone_by_dawn/pseuds/Gone_by_dawn
Summary: Reid manages to catch the flu, which, of course he does. That seems to be his luck, doesn’t it? But when he doesn’t show up for work that day, Derek gets worried.





	have a good day at work

**Author's Note:**

> ok so I know I said updates every Monday and it's been weeks but I have been swamped in homework and it's actually only going to get worse these next 2-3 weeks sooo,,, it'll be a while but expect like 4 posts in a row once I get back :)

 It’s a universal truth that no one is themselves when they’re sick. Of course, there's almost an infinite amount of variables playing into this, which, had his head not been pounding harder than he could think, Reid would normally be glad to delve into. As it were, at the moment he could hardly get into a comfortable position without feeling like he might be sick all over his sheets, let alone debate the impact demographics had on one’s ability to combat disease, both physically and emotionally.

All things considered, it was safe to say that Reid fell into a certain category of sick, called “technically functional but recommend against being so”. Which, was fair. He may be a genius, but even he was not immune to the effects the flu was having on his brain. In fact, he'd been so out of it this morning that he'd accidentally gotten into the shower with his clothes still on when he tried to get ready. That was how Derek found him, soaking wet and fully dressed, sitting pensively in the bathtub.

"Reid?" He called out, immediately frowning at the sight of the other man. He looked awful, not even taking into account the fact that he was wearing a full sweater vest and jeans in the shower. His hair, normally a mess of curls, was plastered against his forehead by either water or sweat, he couldn't say. The genius was resting his head back against the shower wall, throat exposed and eyes half lidded. His long legs were splayed out carelessly in front of him, one stretched out as far as possible and the other half-bent to make room. "Kid, what the hell?"

Reid blinked once, twice, before making any attempt to respond. "Morgan?' he asked, voice rough and cracking. Dry coughs tore themselves from his lips and his shoulders shook from the strain of of them, wrist coming up to cover his mouth. He swallowed tentatively when the coughs subsided, only to wince and hunch in on himself. "What are you doing here?"

Morgan, leaning against the doorway, laughed humorlessly. "Are you serious?"

Spencer made a motion almost like he was raising an eyebrow, only it was cut off by a yawn. He scoffed. 

"Well, you didn't show up for work today and no one could get ahold of you. J.J. must've called you like seven times, said you didn't answer one. You're never late to work, and wouldn't just take the day off without calling in, so they sent me to come check on you." He paused, eyes trailing over Reid and his current disposition. "Probably for the best," he said.

 "What do you mean I didn't call in?" Spencer frowned. He looked at Derek, then over to the sink where his phone lay on the counter. Derek understood and grabbed it, easily unlocking it and scrolling to the call log. Nothing. He shook his head. "I thought I sent out a text to Hotch?"

Derek quickly thumbed through his most recent texts to the Unit Chief. No sent messages from today, but Spencer had starting typing out one that was never delivered. "You said 'Can't come in today due to high fever and nausea, will likely be out for-' and then didn't hit send."

The other man heaved an annoyed sigh and let his head fall back against the tiles. "I'm fine," he promised.

Morgan laughed. "Yeah, because you _look_ great," he said, sarcastically. He shifted off of the door frame, striding towards Reid and his bathtub disaster. Carefully, the skinnier agent picked himself up and stepped out, meeting Derek halfway. 

He tried not to notice how Spencer's white shirt was wet, providing Derek with an image of biceps, visible through the fabric. He also was actively ignoring the way Spencer's hair was still matted to his forehead, and how tempting it was to run his hands through it. Fortunately, his job came with the added bonus of knowing exactly what he needed to project in order to make it seem like he was  _not_ having borderline inappropriate thoughts about his teammate. Unfortunately, his teammate was very well skilled in being able to determine his true thoughts anyway. Fortunately again, said teammate was barely lucid at the moment, and no doubt more worried about changing out of his soggy tweed vest.

Spencer shuffled out of the bathroom, with Derek trailing behind him, not entirely sure of what to do next. Half of him had expected to arrive and find that Reid had been kidnapped or something, and the other half had expected to see the kid passed out on the couch after working himself into the ground. Instead, he'd found the other agent semi-conscious and completely disoriented, and, well. His prepared course of action was no longer applicable. 

"Thanks for coming to check on me," Spencer said, interrupting the silence. He visibly debated saying more. "I, uhm... haven't been completely coherent, which I'm sure you've figured by now. My alarm went off and I was so busy wondering why my body ached that I hadn't been paying attention to what I was actually doing, and consequently ended up blending my morning routine into one step, which, evidently, is not as efficient as the process would suggest, especially considering it would involve me trying to simultaneously get dressed and shower, which, as you can see, is perhaps not the _best_ -"

"You're sick," Derek summarized, effectively derailing the genius's rant.

Spencer blinked. "Well, yeah," he said. "The muscle ache, fever, nausea, and cough indicate the flu, most likely contracted a few days ago and just now hitting it's peak suckiness."

Morgan had to laugh at that. ' _Peak suckiness'_ sounded like a Garcia phrase, and was completely out of place in the midst of the doctor's ramblings. "So what you're saying is that you're going to be taking a sick day?"

Reid made a half-committed groan in the back of his throat, then brought a hand up to rub at the soreness right after. "To say the least."

Derek watched at he finally made his way to his dresser, fumbling through the neatly folded clothes in his drawers before pulling out a pair of pajamas. Nimble fingers moved to undo his tie, which hadn't been properly knotted to begin with. It wasn't until Spencer began tugging his sweater vest over his head that Morgan realized the other man would probably appreciate some privacy at the moment.

”Do you need me to get you anything while I’m here? Soup? Water? Anti-inflammatory pain relievers?”

Spencer treated him to a sideways glance and sceptical eyebrow raise. “They sent you to babysit me too?” He teased, the corner of his lips tugging up.

If only the kid didn’t look so worn out, he’d be a sight to see; hair tussled, neck exposed, smirking while his hands worked at undoing the top buttons of his shirt that just happened to be clinging to his body and—how did Derek even get himself into these situations? Moments alone with Reid were increasing becoming nothing but trouble for the older agent.

”Oh, so you’ve got jokes now. Well we’ll see who’s laughing later, Pretty Boy, when I can have the fan on and breathe at the same time and you’re all congested,” Derek said. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, though. “Go ahead and change, I’m going to get you something to drink.”

Spender rolled his eyes and Derek could almost hear him thinking of a sarcastic response, no doubt to be said when his throat no longer felt scratched raw. Something along the lines of _I’m already half undressed but yes,_ now _I’ll get changed_ or _water_ _, why didn’t I think of that, the bane of flu viruses everywhere,_ or _come on in and go through my kitchen, why don't you_. Maybe even just a statistic or figure that wasn’t necessarily helpful in the situation but was nerdy and interesting and would make them both smile for different reasons before Derek fondly told Ried to shut up already.

Before he could get too deep into these thoughts he turned and left the bedroom, in search of bottled water and whatever Reid had in his medicine cabinet.

His apartment was smaller than he had expected it to be, but Derek wasn't entirely sure what he _had_ been expecting. A penthouse, maybe, if he thought about it, but then again no. It seemed odd to him that Reid wasn't loaded, considering the man was literally, certifiably a genius, but at the same time Reid didn't seem like the type to have much money for himself. Somehow the one-person apartment both fit and stuck out from his image of the other man. The _state_ of the apartment, on the other hand, was exactly how Morgan had pictured. Piles of books stacked haphazardly had to be avoided every couple of steps and papers and blankets were discarded at random thought the whole place. It was messy but not necessarily a mess. The kitchen, though, was pristine. He'd been prepared for an excess of mugs laying about and coffee grounds stocking every pantry _slash_ cabinet  _slash_  counter space available. 

What he found was a surprisingly well stocked first aid kit and about as much rubbing alcohol and disinfectants as one would expect from a man who knew exactly how many more germs were transferred from shaking hands than kissing. There was a bottle of extra strength ttylenol, which probably wouldn’t help a whole lot but was better than nothing. Morgan grabbed it, wincing as a few lone pills rattled against the otherwise empty bottle. He was painfully reminded that Reid was often the subject of migraines, and forcefully kept himself from checking how many tablets had already been used. Probably best not to know. It wasn’t a small bottle.

Reid’s fridge was about as pitiful as he would’ve guessed. The doctor apparently only stocked up on water and condiments. There was only one container of actual food, but Derek counted five different salad dressings, strawberry jelly, and a jar of pepperoncini. No wonder the kid was so damn skinny, Lord knows the last time he actually ate.

“Reid, when you feel better I’m going to shove some real food  _so_ _far_ down your throat,” he grumbled, already thinking to himself how long he would be able to subtly buy him lunch before the genius caught on. Probably a week, at least. After that, he’d just have to get creative. _I wonder if I should go grocery shopping_ , he thought, already planning out how much time it would take. He ultimately decided against it, figuring the team would need him back sooner or later to finish working on the case they were currently on. It was tempting, though. Instead, he grabbed the water and made his way back to Reid's bedroom.

"Kid?" Morgan tapped his knuckles against the doorframe, not wanting to enter if Spencer was still undressing. Later, he might make a joke about getting an unexpected strip tease, but right now, in the moment, nothing was funny about the very serious threat Spencer was posing to Derek's self control. 

"Enter," he said, because  _of course_ he was the type of person to say 'enter' instead of 'come in'. Penelope said it too, half-ironically, and usually followed up with a 'ye mortal'. _Cute,_ Derek thought, then,  _o_ _h my god, I have a type._

Morgan walked back into the room, greeted with the sight of Spencer sitting at the edge of his bed in actual long pajama pants and a Caltech t-shirt that he seemed to finally be growing into. He held up the two bottles in his hands. "Doctor's orders?"

Spencer took them gratefully, downing two of the Tylenol without even looking at them. He took a sip of the water almost as an afterthought. Morgan tried very hard to suppress the vein that threatened to pop on his forehead. "Thank you," the other mumbled. 

Now that the interaction was over, Derek  wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He opted for crossing his arms and leaning against a wall, which, admittedly, he seemed to do whenever he wasn't sure what else to do with himself. "So," he said. "Flu, huh?"

Reid nodded, though the motion seemed to trigger a headache, judging by the way his eyebrows furrowed. "Afraid so," he said, and Morgan caught himself noticing how pretty his drawl sounded. Time to abort mission. 

"Well, call me if you need anything." In an effort not to make the situation seem awkward he got up, moving to ruffle Spencer's hair which was  _not aborting dumbass, get out of here_. "Take care of yourself, man."

Reid's smile was definitely worth how stupid he was making himself look, however strained and tired it was. "Thanks, for stopping by." He had to swallow, which caused another eyebrow furrow. Taking a sip of the water, Reid managed: "I'll try and be back by Monday but, uh,  **have a good day at work**."

He smiled at Spencer, nodded, and disappeared from the room, making sure to close the door behind him. He let himself out of the apartment, down the flight of stairs, through the doors to the parking lot, and finally into the driver's seat of the SUV before taking in a deep breath. The whole thing had felt so  _domestic_ , he was sure it was making  _him_ sick. He didn't have time to even debate that feeling before Rossi was calling and he had to pick up.

"Morgan."

"Jesus," he said, not even bothering with a 'hello'. "Are you done playing housekeeper yet? We sent you to check on the kid, not nurse him back to health."

 _Bastard_. "Hilarious. Reid's got the flu and gonna sit this one out. I'm coming to you guys now."

"Tell me something, would ya'?"

An eyeroll. "What?" Morgan swore the smirk in the other man's next words was audible. 

"Did true love's kiss bring him back to life?"

In the background he could hear Emily snort, which triggered Dave's own howling laughter. Morgan hung up.

**Author's Note:**

> comment comment comment commeNT COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT pls :)


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